


Rope Burn

by icedcafelatte



Series: Blue [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Caught, Cruelty, Gen, Injury, Manhandling, Nets, Other, Rescue, Restraints, Whump, merman, rope burn, ropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedcafelatte/pseuds/icedcafelatte
Summary: For the prompt "Rope Burn" + my merman OC Blue for Bad Things Happen Bingo on tumblr.





	Rope Burn

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Rope Burn" + my merman OC Blue for Bad Things Happen Bingo on tumblr.

Seeing nets never prepared him for being  _ in _ one. Not even close.

 

He doesn't even see it happen. One moment he's swimming, the next minute something is closing around him from all sides and then pulling him through the water. It happens so  _ fast _ .

 

He begins to struggle.

 

Struggling only makes it worse as he gets twisted and tangled in the coarse material. He tries biting at it but that only hurts his teeth. He can't fit his hand through the holes in it, let alone his whole arm, and even if he could, he’s out in the middle of the water with nothing to hold onto.

 

The net begins to lift, and in desperation he makes a call of distress, sending the deep sound rippling through the water in hopes that someone, anyone, is passing by and might help him.

 

No one comes.

 

The net continues to rise.

 

He tries to curl up but the net keeps him stretched out, he can't move his tail except to thrash it uselessly.

 

When he breaches the air he begins to gasp, lungs taking over for his gills. The air is cold; his whole body tenses from it and from being confined. He squirms a little, tries to call out again but out of water it doesn't have the same effect.

 

“We got one!” he hears human voices say.

 

The net jerks and then it drops, sudden and  _ hard _ onto the deck of a boat. He lands heavily on his shoulder with a soft grunt.

 

The moment he's down the humans approach him with sharp objects in their hands and he starts to thrash again. Now that he's out of the water he can feel the rope more keenly against his skin, but he ignores it and continues struggling.

 

“Whoa, fuck!” the humans back away quickly when one is almost tripped 

 

“Leave it in there ‘til we get to shore, idiots,” another says.

 

They leave him alone, lying on the hard ground, out of the water, tangled in the net.

 

He closes his eyes, tries to calm his frantic breathing. He might glare at the humans, bare his teeth, swing his tail, but he's  _ scared _ .

 

The trip to shore feels so long. It isn't hot, but he still hates the feeling of direct sun. He keeps shifting, turning over, trying to keep any one part of him from getting too dry. It doesn't help much; he can feel precious moisture leaving him bit by bit. His gills flutter weakly.

 

He's almost managed to relax when heavy boots stomp across the deck towards him. He looks up, startled, as someone grabs the net, bunching it up in their fist and pulling him with them.

 

The net tightens around his body as he's dragged across the deck. He tries again to squirm and struggle, then immediately gasps and stops. Now that his skin is beginning to dry it's sensitive, and the coarse material rubs harshly at it. He feels it with every movement.

 

The humans are far from gentle as they drag him, and it doesn't stop once they're off the boat. He's dragged up the dock, and that's even worse. The ground is rough and the rope is rough and he can't move out of the position he's trapped in, curled up like this, and he can feel the skin of his arm and side scraped at uncomfortably.

 

They bring him into a building and let go of the net for a moment. He settles against the ground, breathing heavily. His whole side  _ burns. _

 

Something moves, and when he looks up they're cutting the rope loose from around him. He feels something close to relief being free of the confinement, even though he knows whatever is next can only be bad.

 

“What are we gonna do with it?” One human asks another. “We don't have a tank.”

 

“We don't need a tank, dumbass. The thing won't be alive much longer anyway. Just tie it up good so it can't flop away or somethin'”

 

His stomach drops.  _ Won't be alive much longer _ -

 

One of the men grabs his arms and another grabs his tail. He struggles, yanks his arms away, flicks his tail up in the man's face.

 

They both yelp and drop him. He cries out as his back slams onto the hard ground. He tries to turn over and drag himself away, wincing at the scraping of the concrete floor on the soft skin of his chest and stomach. 

 

He doesn't get far.

 

“Fuckin’ nuisance…”

 

One man is standing over him, gathers up his arms, while the other comes up from behind with rope and wraps it tightly around his wrists, binding them together. He squirms against them but they're so tight; his squirming only makes the rope dig into his skin.

 

They lift him again and this time he doesn't fight. He's running out of air, out of strength, out of hope. He's out of his element. He won't get free without help, and there's none around.

 

The men slam him down onto a wooden surface, uncaring that it hurts him. His body is sore all over from being dropped and dragged and handled roughly.

 

They fasten the ropes to the top of whatever he’s lying on, so his arms are raised up above his head, and he shudders at how vulnerable he feels this way. They wrap more rope - twice around his chest, once at his waist, twice at the thick part of his tail and finally once more at the narrowest part just above the tailfin, so that he's tied down completely.

 

He doesn't have time to adjust to his new reality before it's changed again. Together all three men hoist up the tall wooden board and prop it against the wall. Now not only is he bound all over tightly but he's off the ground; even if he could get free, he'd only fall.

 

The ropes chafe his dry, oversensitive skin. When he squirms from discomfort the burn only gets worse. The ropes around his chest are tightest and they make it harder to breathe. He takes big, rasping breaths, flinching at every movement.

 

Then - then something touches his tail.

 

_ No, no, don't touch _ -

 

He doesn't want these horrible people anywhere near his tail…

 

The hand is examining his vibrant blue scales. He tries to shift, to move them from his grip, and then gives a pained gasp when the coarse rope digs into his tail and stomach. He gives one last, desperate thrash in the bindings, but when they only continue to hurt him he gives up.

 

His skin feels too hot where the ropes press into him and too cold where cool air touches his skin. His head pounds from dehydration and he's shaking. He tries to focus on breathing.

 

Some time passes. He doesn't know how much. His head is dropped forward, eyes closed, when suddenly there's a commotion from outside. He glances up weakly.

 

People storm inside, confronting the humans who captured him. There's a lot of shouting that he doesn't fully understand and then the men are being led out with their hands behind their backs, leaving only a few of the new humans left in the room.

 

One he recognizes. She's saved him before.

 

“Get him down,” she says to the others, “ _ carefully _ .”

 

Two humans lower the board to the ground and she kneels beside it.

 

“I'll take care of him, you check for others,” she tells them.

 

They hurry off, and she turns to him.

 

“Hey, Blue,” she says gently.

 

She begins removing the bindings. He sighs in relief as the pressure loosens and falls away and he can breathe and move without pain.

 

Well. Without as much pain.

 

His side is scraped and scratched from the drag over here. His shoulder throbs, his back is bruised from slamming onto hard surfaces. All over his body are angry red marks from the ropes. Some are lesser, from the net, criss-crossing over him. Others - on his chest and wrists especially - are deep and starting to crack and bleed. Even his tail has suffered - some scales have cracked from the pressure and rub of the rope.

 

He lies his head back on the wood with a soft, weak sound.

 

A warm hand settles on his arm and he looks up to meet his rescuer’s eyes.

 

“Hang in there,” she says. “We're going to get you home.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://thoughtsonhurtandcomfort.tumblr.com)


End file.
